


Unhinged

by Maimat



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s02e16 God Johnson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-16 10:22:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17547878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maimat/pseuds/Maimat
Summary: The drugs take some extra time to wear off after the events in God Johnson, and Lucifer has an identity crisis.





	1. Chapter 1

Episode Tag

S02E16 God Johnson

* * *

 

As soon as the scene was secure, Chloe was at Lucifer’s side, “Are you okay?”

“Honestly, I’ve never felt better.” He was smiling like there was nothing at all that could be wrong in the world, face beatific.

It was the drugs, obviously. As she unwrapped the Velcro restraints from Lucifer’s wrists, Chloe could see right away that his eyes were glassy and unfocused. Even as he reached over to free his other arm from the Velcro strap his movements were unsteady and uncoordinated, not like Lucifer’s natural grace at all.

In the gurney next to Lucifer, God Johnson was acting like a man rudely woken from a long sleep, “What just happened?”

“What are you talking about? We just beat Santa.” Lucifer looked over, still smiling.

“Who are you?”

The smile faded. “It’s me, Dad, Lucifer.”

Chloe's heart constricted as she watched the light drain out of Lucifer’s expression as he registered the confusion on the older man’s face.

God Johnson ignored him. “Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on? Get me out of these damn things.”

She followed Lucifer’s gaze from Johnson to the floor, focusing on something past the gurney Johnson had been strapped to. Without any warning, Lucifer was sliding off the gurney trying to stand, and she wasn’t quick enough to catch him as his legs failed to hold him upright.

“Lucifer?” she managed to skid to his side in an instant. She placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

His hand closed around the silver and blue buckle that had fallen. “He’s not real?”

“Is what not real?”

"Everything."

She watched his eyes start to track Johnson, still demanding to know what the hell was going on and where he was and who were all these people.

“He’s not my dad,” Lucifer said softly. He closed his eyes, and slowly shook his head as though trying to rid himself of something inside it. “Nothing he said was real. And if he’s not- then. What if I’m not?”

“Not what?”

“Am I not real too? Detective?”

Chloe held onto him. “Lucifer, you were drugged. Just slow down.”

The police backup and paramedics arrived, and she waved them to come over.

“I’m just a man who’s delusional? Santa told me I made it all up, did I make it up?” he asked her.

The paramedics came, but she refused to leave his side as they took his blood pressure and shined a light in his eyes. It was the drugs. It had to be the drugs. Chloe had never heard him so confused before; she didn’t even know if this was a step in the right direction or a setback.

“I’m going to call Dr. Linda.” She said resolutely.

“Detective?” his eyes slowly focused on her again.

“I’m right here, hold on,” she found his hand and wrapped her fingers around his.

Linda answered her cell phone and immediately agreed to an appointment with Lucifer first thing the next morning before her office hours began. That was a relief at least. Chloe pocketed the phone and turned her attention back to her partner.

“Nothing is real, is it? Did I make it up?” he asked her again.

Why was it so difficult to answer him? Of course, he wasn’t the devil. Any other time she would be ecstatic, (wouldn’t she?) to hear him make sense for once. But this only served to make her feel queasy. She couldn’t do it. Lucifer’s metaphors were so much a part of who he was, there was no way she could take that away from him in a vulnerable moment.

Instead of answering she found a blanket and draped it over his shoulders as he sat dazed while the paramedics did their thing, and then there were the nurses checking him out all over again.

A police officer came over to take Lucifer’s statement. 

“We beat Santa.” He stated and then offered a thumbs up, but the triumph that had been in his voice earlier was replaced with weariness.

“He’s been drugged,” Chloe told the detective defensively. Anyway, they had a confession and more than enough evidence 

A nurse arrived with a wheelchair, holding it in place as an orderly contemplated the patient sitting on the floor.

“It’s time to take Mr. Morningstar back to his room.” The nurse informed her, and Chloe rocked back on her heels for a moment. Right. She moved to get up as an orderly stepped closer to haul Lucifer to his feet.  Maybe if he had a chance to sleep it off, he would be more like himself again in the morning. 

“Oh, hello,” Lucifer grinned as the orderly stepped up behind him and hooked his hands under his arms to hoist him up on his feet. Once there he stood languidly, body still in contact with the man behind him, eyes roving from the nurse and then over his shoulder to the orderly in turn. “You’re here to take me to bed, are you?” He cocked his head to the side just a bit, eyes bright, “This I know,” Lucifer said body language already adjusting, adapting to the new situation, openly inviting.  “I can feel your desire. I know you want me.”

The nurse licked her lips as the orderly's hand brushed Lucifer's hip.

Chloe just stared at them incredulously; this could not be happening.

Lucifer was already responding to the growing sexual tension in the air by bringing his fingers up to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Chloe stepped up, arm hooking around Lucifer's and nearly knocking him off balance as she wedged herself between him and the hospital staff. Why was she the only one able to recognize how inappropriate this was? Lucifer was a patient and he was still obviously under the influence of some very potent drugs. Nope. Lucifer could do whatever he wanted any other time, but not like this, and not on her watch.

“No way. He’s coming home with me,” she stated bluntly and took note of the nametags on the staff’s uniform.

“You can’t just take a patient home-”

Chloe cut her off. “He’s a consultant with the LAPD, working undercover.” 

Lucifer’s response was to grin even wider. “Are you going to fight over me? There's no need, I am perfectly happy taking turns," he reminded everyone with delight and then lost his balance.

Chloe had to quickly brace and duck under his arm so she could keep him upright until she could sit him down in the wheelchair.

“Detective! I’ll be happy for you to do me too.” And his fingers went back to the buttons, fumbling awkwardly and not accomplishing anything.

“Stop it. Leave your shirt on,” she told him sternly and he dropped his hands down on his lap in dejection.

There was still work to do but how was she supposed to accomplish anything while she also needed to watch over Lucifer and keep him safe and out of trouble?

Doctor Garrity stepped up. "I'll process a release form." he offered, looking from her to Lucifer and then back again.

The other officers on the scene at least seemed to have everything under control, and she was able to get Lucifer out of there as fast as she could.  

It wasn’t her fault if she was less than gentle after everything was handled and she was finally able to guide Lucifer away from the hospital and to her car. Whatever spark of energy he’d had ignited in him earlier at the prospect of sex had been firmly quenched when it became apparent nothing of the sort was going to happen. She had to do everything, open his door, guide him in, she even leaned over and did up his seatbelt, all without a word.

He was drugged, she reminded herself. She bit her tongue. She shouldn't be angry. It didn’t help. “What were you thinking?” she demanded as soon as she was behind the wheel. 

He looked at her, expression fathomless.

“You were about to strip in the middle of a crime scene!” She pulled out onto the street before glancing in his direction.

“What crime scene?” he asked finally.

“Oh, I don’t know? The one where two psychiatric patients were nearly murdered by a deranged nurse?”

He chewed his lip, taking a moment to process the information. “I was thinking,” he answered in a low voice, honest and raw, “I could feel them, they desired me. I fulfill desires, Detective. That's what I do,” he trailed off and closed his eyes, looking as though he may fall asleep any moment. 

The anger melted out of her, replaced instead with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized right away. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

He shifted in his seat so he was half facing her. His eyes alternating between watching her and drifting shut.

She drove straight to Lux, parking around back in the spot reserved beside Lucifer’s Corvette. He had eventually fallen asleep along the way and she reached over and gently shook his shoulder. It didn’t take much for him to raise his head and look blurrily out the window. “You really did take me home,” he murmured and then sighed. “What is wrong with my head?”

“You’re drugged,” she explained as she got out and went around to help him.

“But I like drugs.” He pouted.

“Not this kind,” she insisted. She held out her hand to him, “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

Slowly he shifted, got out of the car. She had her hand on him again, but gentle this time, to lead him inside and then up to his penthouse. He tried to steer her towards his bar, but she deflected him deftly and deposited him on the couch instead.

“I’ll get you a drink.”

“Scotch,” he ordered.

She brought him water and he drank it anyway. She sat down beside him, “Lucifer, are you okay?”

His seemed steadier than he'd been before and this time when he looked at her his eyes didn't lose focus. “He told me he was proud of me.” He said. “I don't know why I believed him. That right there should have been enough for me to realize he wasn't my dad.”

Of all the things Chloe expected to hear that wasn't it. “I’m sorry.”

“And, I’m sorry too, for my behavior after. I,” he paused, not sure what to say. “Detective, about the nurse and the orderly, it wasn’t their fault.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t yours,” she retorted. “It's okay. I know you were confused.” She assured him. Though it had given her some disturbing insight into what made Lucifer tick.

He nodded again and then was quiet for a while. “Speaking of confused,” he said finally.  “When my Da-, when Johnson turned out not to be who I thought he was, I felt a little unhinged,” he said slowly. “I know you think I’m delusional,” he forged ahead. “But I’ve never lied to you.”

“I don’t think you're delusional.” She wasn’t about to forget how lost he’d sounded as he doubted his identity. With as strong a dose of drugs as that nurse had given him, she was surprised he'd been functioning as well as he had.

“Are you saying you're starting to believe me? That I’m the devil?” He looked at her and behind the doubt, there was an almost wistful expression on his face. 

Chloe was careful how to word the next part. “Lucifer, you’re the most authentic person I’ve ever met. The only person who gets to decide who you are is you, and for what it’s worth, I believe in you.” 

 


	2. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe comforts Lucifer, and Lucifer tells a story from his past.

“Nothing I did was ever good enough,” Lucifer said, almost to himself.

Chloe didn’t want to leave while he was in this state of mind. Lucifer eventually got up and poured himself a glass of Scotch, and then reconsidering the action, put the glass down and brought the whole bottle back to the couch.

“You shouldn’t be drinking right now, the drugs are still in your system.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes at her and held the bottle far enough away so she couldn't snatch it. “It’s the drugs getting out of my system that is the very reason I need this.” He raised the bottle in a toast.  “Want some?” 

Against her better judgement, yes, she did. She accepted the bottle and took a drink before passing it back.

Lucifer looked amused. “Well then. Aren’t you full of surprises? Are there any other mysteries waiting to be revealed tonight?” he asked suggestively. 

“No mysteries are waiting for you tonight. The sooner you accept that, the better.”

He flopped back against the couch. “Is that what this is? You’re chaperoning me?”

“After what happened at the hospital earlier, yes.”

He sat back up, this time looking hurt and betrayed. “So now what? You think I’m going to run off into the night ravishing people against their will?”

She made a face. “If that was my fear do you really think I’d choose to spend the night alone with you in your penthouse?”

He blinked, thinking about that one. “No. I guess not.”  But he sounded confused.

She reached over and placed a hand on his knee, prompting him to freeze and stare down at her fingers. “I’m here because I don’t think you should be alone tonight, and I think if you spend the night with anyone, it should be with someone you trust.”

“Someone like you?”

She offered him a small smile. “You could barely stay awake on the drive here, do you want to go to bed?”

He tipped back the bottle and took another long swallow of the scotch.  “Unless you’re ready to join me for something other than sleep, the answer is no.” He waited but she didn't rise to the bait. Chloe could see he was disappointed with her lack of reaction. Was he trying to drive her away?

“What do you want?” Chloe asked.

“I want to forget the past few days ever happened." He turned to face her and took another long pull from the Scotch. “But nothing I do is going to help me forget how monumentally stupid I was to think anything could ever change.”

And that definitely wasn’t a direction she wanted him to start dwelling on again, but seeing his piano behind him, the center piece of his penthouse, maybe there was a way she could distract him. “How long have you been playing the piano?”

His attention shifted just as she'd hoped. “Not long. The fortepiano wasn’t invented all that long ago.” He reminded her. “And it certainly didn’t sound like what we have today. It was quieter. Still beautiful when played by the right hands.”

She studiously ignored that he had dropped back into speaking in metaphors, but at least he wasn’t talking about his dad anymore. “Who taught you how to play?”

He followed her gaze towards his piano and smiled.  “No one. I watched others. Well, one in particular.” Some of the tension easied from his body just thinking about it. “It’s a good story, actually. The prince thought I was there for him, but I wasn’t. The inventor thought I was there for him, but I wasn’t. I never corrected either them of their assumptions, and they weren’t entirely unpleasant. It was the servant I was interested in. He was tasked with testing the instruments for the inventor. The first time I heard him perform, I knew I wanted to hear more. Most of the time he didn’t have much choice over what he played, but he was allowed time to practice, and that was when I would go to him. And so when he could, he played for my pleasure in the day, and I made sure he was just as well taken care of in the night.”

“Did you love him?”

“What? No. of course not. Nor did he love me.  We had a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

She couldn’t help but think of the long line of women she had interviewed when they’d been investigating the murdered stewardess, how Lucifer had seemed genuinely disturbed that none of the women had thought of him as anything more than an (admittedly excellent) one-night stand.

“I couldn't stay for long. Amenadiel tracked me down eventually, and I went back, like I always did.”

“Did you see him again?”

“Thankfully, no. He was far too good to ever have to cross my path again, so I never did find out what the rest of his life was like. I couldn’t even find his name in any record or documents. Those most deserving aren’t often the ones who are remembered. Not even the music he made survived. Nothing.”

“Do you remember any of the songs?” she asked, too caught up in the story to worry about being skeptical. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said, eyes lighting up. “Would you like to hear one?”

She nodded, and he got up and sat down at the piano bench, hands held carefully over the keys as he thought for a moment, and then he began. It wasn’t what she had expected, it was slow but light, almost like his fingers were dancing. And when he was done he lightly caressed the keys with his fingers. “Well, I guess his music isn’t completely lost then, is it?”

He picked up his bottle of Scotch and returned to join her on the couch, stretching out and taking up as much room as he possibly could. Chloe pushed his legs aside, and rather than move, she stretched out alongside him, wedged between his body and the back of the couch. Lucifer shifted, his arm scooping under her shoulder and up around her back, fitting them together as snug as two pieces of a puzzle as she rested her cheek against his chest.

“What’s his name?”

Lucifer took a moment to answer. “His name was Feliciano.”

She could feel his breath against her temple, his lips were so close.

“It was the music he loved. He was only a servant, but his position allowed him access to any instrument he desired. I’ve never met anyone, not even kings, as content as he was.”

And that was how they drifted off to sleep as Chloe thought about Lucifer’s story and contemplated what it might mean.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the story Comments and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Tumblr: maiamt.tumblr.com


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